


Comfort

by Lobotomite



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Ableist Language, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-03 22:13:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14578758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lobotomite/pseuds/Lobotomite
Summary: Learning to love yourself is a lofty goal; Aaron's not sure he'll ever reach it. For now, though, he's embracing finally working towards being comfortable with himself.





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mittamoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mittamoo/gifts).



> Just a quick warning that there's a brief instance of an ableist slur near the end of the fic.

It's a difficult thing, learning not to hate himself.

There's so much about him that's _different_ , that he's been taught from so many different sources is wrong and distasteful and unlovable. He'd spent so much of his life internalising that, building that repression and hatred into a gnarled twisting knot of protection, that he's not sure if he'll ever manage to tease it all out enough to feel completely settled in himself.

He's learning not to focus on that, though. Instead he focusses on how much he's already shrugged off; the biggest burdens, his sexuality and his twisted, sorry excuse for a father, were the biggest to crumble, but sometimes it's the smaller ones that really make him realise how much freer he feels now than he ever has before.

It's when he's in the kitchen with Adam in the morning and realises that he's bouncing on the balls of his feet - _up down up down up down_ \- and doesn't feel that stab of embarrassment and shame, doesn't ground himself and plant his feet on the floor but lets himself bob up and down again, feeling warm and weightless and secure in the knowledge that he's not going to be on the receiving end of a funny look or a disdainful comment.

It's when he realises that he's run away with himself and has been talking about something he's been especially interested in lately for a good fifteen minutes, careening away from the original conversation, and all he can see in his sister’s face is affection and interest. When that realisation doesn't turn his tongue to lead in his mouth and make him stumble to a stop, doesn't dampen his enthusiasm and have him fiercely biting his tongue for the rest of the night, instead just making him happy to be talking about something he loves.

It's when he's fine and then, abruptly, everything is too loud and too crowded and too busy and _too much_ , and he can feel the panic tightening in his chest and his ears feel like they've been stuffed with cotton, and he realises that he feels awful but he doesn't feel trapped. He knows that he can leave without judgement, that he can come back whenever he's ready.

Of course, there are lots of little things that still weigh him down, too. He still hears his father's sneering voice in his head when a word feels nice on his tongue, when he says it once and wants to repeat it, to feel it out, to test out all the ways it can be said and figure out which one he likes more. _Stop being a fucking parrot,_ he hears, and swallows the word, like he always does, and forces himself to leave it be.

_Use your own words, for Christ's sake, Aaron, I know you're not a retard so stop acting like one,_ rings in his ears when Adam says something that he wants to repeat back to him, when he wants to repeat it long after the conversation is over - to solidify the meaning, to make the phrase feel more real by using it himself, he doesn't even know why, just knows that he wants to. It used to feel good, once, he's pretty sure; now even the thought of it makes him feel so reflexively shameful and stupid that he doesn't know if he'll ever get that back again.

But then, he used to think that about all of those other things, too, about letting the overflow of emotions work their way out through his arms and hands in a frenetic shake, but now they feel safe and comfortable again. So who knows.

What he does know is that he has people who love him for who he is, who know he's not "normal" and love him for it, and that he can explore all of himself without judgement.

He might not love himself, yet, might not even be entirely comfortable with himself. But he's happier than he's ever been, and for now, that's enough.


End file.
